Love and Lightning
by KikiTwinTai
Summary: Collection on one-shots based on the prompt 'person A is scared of thunderstorms, person B comforts them'. Mainly fluff, but rated M for chapters with strong language and/or mature content.
1. Chapter 1 - Chibitalia

Part 1 - Chibitalia

The sky lit up with a blinding flash, booming thunder following not a second later. Little Feliciano cowered in his bed, too terrified to move. Tears streamed down his face as flash after flash lit up the sky, visible even through the layers of blankets he had tangled himself up in. Rain lashed against the window, branches whipping against the panes with the wind. A crash sounded from outside, presumably from a branch falling. At the sound, the child burrowed further into the blankets, desperately praying for it to be over.

Suddenly, he heard the door open; soft, even footsteps approaching the bed he lay in. He tried to wrestle himself out of the blankets, only succeeding in entangling his small body even further. His heartbeat hammered in his chest, the lack of air in the fabric covering his face only increasing his panic. He heard the figure step closer and closer, stopping, it seemed, directly in front of him. He felt a hand on top of the blankets, reaching for him. A voice called out to him, gentle and motherly. He sobbed hearing it, knowing the comfort he craved had found him.

"Shh, Feli. It's alright, you're alright. Just hold on a moment". Her voice continued to murmur words of comfort and reassurance. His struggles slowed, the panic in his mind receding at her warm touch. He stopped wriggling, allowing the figure to disentangle him from the maze of blankets. Finally, the fabric was lifted from his face, freeing him from its suffocating warmth.

"There we go. You're safe now, little Feli."

He greedily sucked in the cool air of the room, gasping and sobbing with relief. He felt himself being lifted up and into a pair of soft, gentle arms, then a sense of rising and swaying as the figure carried him away, into another room. She started singing softly to him, her voice matching the sway of her hips as she carried him.

He was set down on another bed, much bigger than his own. His panic now gone, he looked around, taking in the features of the room. It was huge, decorated in white and gold, a gilt mirror on the wall across from him taking the centrepiece above a huge fireplace. One wall was covered in paintings, the other large glass windows, covered by heavy velvet drapes. Although he couldn't see it, he knew the floor was covered in a rich plush rug. A piano stood in the far left corner of the room, facing the windows so that the player could look out at the stunning views, when not obscured by rain. A small table stood in the other corner next to the bed, the shiny wood reflecting the light of a solitary candle placed on it. An elegant dresser stood to the right of the mirror, the surface littered with combs and hairpins, again in gold. A triptych mirror stood on top, its panels closed to ward off dust.

The bed he now sat on was an elegant four-poster, covered in cool, soft silk sheets, with a down comforter thrown to the end. He couldn't resist running his small fingers over the smooth fabric, taking comfort in the way his hands slid over it.

He heard a low chuckle, and looked around to see a man lying next to him, propped up one arm. He had dark brown hair, ruffled slightly from sleep, with a stray curl on one side. His violet eyes regarded the boy with affection, a small smile on his face.

"Is that all it takes to stop your tears? A silk sheet?" the man laughed softly, making Feliciano jump.

"Don't tease him, Roderich. He's terrified of thunderstorms, and who can blame him? He's only a child." The woman sat on the bed next to Feliciano, frowning at her husband.

"I know, Elizabeta. I'm not angry at him. He'll learn eventually that it's nothing to be scared of. Isn't that right, Feliciano?"

The little boy did not look convinced. As if to disprove the man, a crash of thunder sounded again, making him jump and cower into Elizabeta's arms. She drew the child close, hugging him tightly and kissing the top of his head. She looked over the boy in her arms, seeing her husband looking at the two of them with a strange expression on his face. She smiled at him, then looked down at Feliciano, who was now nodding off in the safety of her embrace. She looked back up at Roderich, then spoke softly.

"I think he'll be alright now. It would only disturb him to move him again. Let's keep him here with us, just for tonight. Please?"

Roderich didn't answer, merely laying back down again and closing his eyes. When Elizabeta didn't move, he opened an eye and held his arms out to her, questioning.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" he asked, his voice laced with sleep and love.

She smiled happily at him. Placing Feliciano into Roderich's outstretched arms, she slid into the bed and drew the covers over them all. Feliciano shifted in his sleep as Roderich laid him down between them, fussing slightly, then settled down. His small hands reached out to grasp each of them, one clinging to Roderich's finger, the other tangling in a lock of Elizabeta's long hair. Roderich and Elizabeta shared a smile at the sight. He slung an arm over them both, making a loose cage, and Elizabeta snuggled into him, careful not to jostle the child between them.

Outside, the sounds of the storm gradually lessened and faded away. The rest of the night passed in silence, the only sound that of the gentle patter of the rain on the window as it lulled them all to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 -Chibiromano

Part 2 – chibiromano

Lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the world in flashes of blue. The child stood on a chair at the window, staring out at the sky. He jumped at each flash, telling himself furiously that it was nothing to be scared of. His hands were bunched into fists though, and he clenched them tighter and tighter on the window's ledge each time thunder boomed overhead. Shakily, he reached out and placed a small hand on the cool glass, feeling it rattle with the ferocity of the wind, rain lashing the pane relentlessly.

A sudden particularly fierce gust caught the latch, swinging the window wide open. The boy jumped back in shock, but not fast enough to escape being drenched. The wind, having found a new outlet, rushed into the room, making the boy shiver at the sudden cold despite the heat of the night. Rain poured into the room, soaking into the chair he was standing on and running off the sides, forming a puddle on the wooden floor.

Standing on tiptoe, the boy reached out of the window precariously, struggling to find the edge of the wood. He blinked furiously, trying to see through the water lashing his face. His hair was slicked back on his head, the curl that normally wouldn't lie flat now sticking to his face, water running down his back and making him shiver. Nevertheless, he tried to ignore it and continued to reach out for the window. His fingertips strained to reach it, his hand grasping on air. He stood on one leg, leaning out as far as he dared. It still wasn't enough. He stood on the top of the chair, then knelt on the window ledge, keeping one hand clutched tightly to the window frame. Just as his fingers brushed against the wooden edge of the pane, a man's voice cut through the wind, shouting to be heard over the storm.

"Romano! What on earth are you doing?!"

The boy, Romano, turned suddenly at hearing the voice. As he did so, his knee slipped on the wet ledge of the window. He fell forward, the air driving out of his lungs as he collided painfully with the ledge. His hands flew out in front of him, one catching on the window as it swung back in the wind, the other waving frantically, scrabbling for purchase in the air.

"ROMANO!" The man's voice was full of worry and fear. He pushed the chair out of the way, then grabbed hold of the boy's legs and drew him back through. Romano collapsed onto the man, shaking uncontrollably. The man fell backward with the force, and they both landed on the floor, panting in shock. The man hugged him fiercely, then took hold of his shoulders and shook him roughly. His voice was full of panic as he asked

"What the hell were you doing, huh? What were you thinking?"

Romano frowned, suddenly angry at the man's intrusion. He looked away, refusing to meet the man's worried gaze. After a moment of silence, he let go of the boy.

"You stupid little fool. Do you realise how dangerous that was? Do you? Answer me, Romano!" Romano couldn't find any words, however, his body shaking in fear and cold. The window banged against the wall again, making the two of them jump.

The man let go of Romano and reached out to shut the latch, locking the window and putting the shutter down. With the storm shut out, the room was plunged into a dark, warm silence. Romano stood where he was, dripping water onto the floor. His whole body ached from hitting the ledge, his wrist throbbing from hitting the window.

The man set the chair upright again, cursing softly under his breath when he saw the water soaked into the leather. He busied himself with pulling open a drawer, then lighting a lamp, illuminating the room with a gentle glow. Romano stood watching him, shivering slightly as he felt his damp shirt sticking to his clammy skin. He ran his hands along his arms, trying to warm himself up. His wet hair was still dripping down his back in cold rivulets, adding to the discomfort. He shivered again and sneezed, making the man turn to look at him in surprise.

Seeing the boy's wet clothes, the man strode over to him, picking a blanket off the bed and drawing it around him. Romano sniffed, wiping his nose with one hand, but accepted the blanket, clutching it around his thin shoulders. Satisfied, the man began wiping up the water around the chair, making sure the wood wouldn't warp.

"A-antonio?"

The man looked up from where he knelt.

"Yes, Romano?"

The boy looked away in embarrassment. A long moment passed, then he sighed and muttered.

"I'm sorry."

Antonio smiled in relief at the boy and stood up, walking over to him. He ruffled the boy's hair, then sighed as he felt the wet strands.

"I forgive you. But come, sit down. You're soaked through. You'll catch a cold if you stay like this." He drew Romano over to the bed and made him sit down.

"Wait here." He walked over to the small wardrobe in the corner of the room, taking out a fresh shirt and pants for the boy.

Romano looked around at his room, lit with the soft glow of the lamp. His bed was big, too big for just him, and covered in a mess of sheets and blankets. The wooden floor was covered by a large rug, scattered with toys. In the corner nearest the door was the wardrobe where Antonio stood, a large dresser next to it, with a gilt mirror above. A fireplace stood in the middle, unlit. A low table stood underneath the window, covered in quills, ink, papers and an expensive-looking leather-bound book. A telescope lay on top of some of the papers, along with a fleet of toy ships and a dozen or so little wooden soldiers. A chest stood at the end of the bed, painted a rich red and gold. Altogether, the room was a strange mix of opulence and plain. It was clear that he was a rather messy child, however, as clothes and toys scattered around attested to. Antonio cursed as he almost fell over something, and Romano looked away, not wanting to show his embarrassment.

Antonio stood in front of him, clothes folded over his arm.

"Come on."

Romano looked up in surprise. "What?" Antonio held out a hand to him. "You're soaked through. You need a bath to warm you up or you're gonna catch a cold." The boy looked at him doubtfully. "But it's the middle of the night. The servants are all asleep."

Antonio sighed. "I'll draw you one. Come on." When Romano still didn't move, he sighed and picked the boy up, taking him into his arms. Romano struggled, kicking his legs, then gasped as the movement made his wrist hit into Antonio's back, the joint flaring in pain. Antonio stopped walking, his gaze worried. "Romano? What's wrong?"

The boy didn't answer, but moaned in pain again. Antonio turned around and set the boy back on the bed. Romano sucked in a breath through his teeth, his hand automatically cradling his wrist. Antonio's eyes widened in realisation.

"Let me see." Romano shook his head, clutching his injured wrist. " _Romano_." At the sting in the man's voice, he reluctantly moved his hands away, allowing Antonio to see the joint.

The boy's wrist was red and swollen, looking bruised and angry. Antonio frowned. "Why didn't you say anything before?! This is bad!"

Romano looked away, shrugging. Antonio cursed again, in Spanish this time so the boy wouldn't understand him.

"I'm going to go and get something for this, alright? You stay put." He walked over to the door, then turned back as a thought occurred to him. "And change your shirt. Dry yourself off with the towel and put a new one on. I've left one on the bed. I'll only be a few minutes. With that, he hurried down the corridor outside, his footsteps receding into the distance.

For once, Romano did as he was told, glad to finally be out of his wet clothes. He dried himself off as best he could with the soft towel, gingerly rubbing his hair one-handed to try and get the moisture out. He gasped as he accidentally brushed against his sensitive curl, a shudder running through his body. He tried to put the new shirt on, then gave up when the movement aggravated his wrist, and sat back to wait for Antonio's return.

With his guardian gone, the sound of the storm was much louder. Although the window was now closed, the rain still lashed against the window, making the glass rattle. He stared at the lamp to try and calm his racing heartbeat, taking comfort from the soft flicker of the flame.

 _Hurry up, Antonio_. Romano would never say the words out loud, but he wished his guardian would hurry up and return. The minutes passed, each one made longer by the sound of the storm still raging outside.

His wish was evidently granted, as the sound of footsteps outside the door signalled Antonio's return. The man entered with a large bowl and pitcher held in his arms, a small towel slung over one shoulder. He walked over to Romano, setting the bowl down in front of him. It was full of a number of little bottles, which he took out and placed on the bed next to the boy.

"Alright. Hold your arm out, Romano."

The boy debated arguing, then gave up and did as he was told, shuffling until he was sat on the end of the bed. He watched as Antonio poured the contents of the pitcher into the bowl, then added sweet-smelling herbs from one of the little pots. The water steamed slightly, the scent of the herbs rising along with the steam to fill the room.

Antonio balanced the bowl on the chest at the bottom of the bed, then gently took hold of Romano's injured wrist and lowered it into the water. The boy cried out as the water stung his swollen flesh, then relaxed as the heat began to soothe the pain. Antonio took the cloth and smeared some kind of ointment over it, making Romano wrinkle his nose at the pungent smell. Antonio looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't complain. This wouldn't have happened if you had been more careful."

Romano scowled. "It wasn't my fault. You scared me, that's all. I wouldn't have fallen out of the window. And it wasn't my fault I hit into the stupid wall."

" **Romano**."

Hearing the anger in Antonio's voice, Romano looked down at his hands, biting his lip. Tears pricked at his eyes. In a small voice, he stuttered "I-I'm sorry."

Antonio's face softened. He reached up and gripped Romano's shoulders. As if a spell broke, the boy began to sob, tears falling down his face. He started choking out words between sobs.

"I-I didn't mean to. I just wanted to watch the storm. T-then the window flew open and I-I couldn't shut it, so I t-thought if I j-just climbed up I c-could. Then you came in a-and you yelled at me and it s-scared me a-and I fell and I hit my wrist a-and i-it h-h-hurts" his voice dissolved into incoherent sobs. He hiccupped, gasping for breath.

Antonio lifted Romano's hand out of the water, then dried it carefully and wrapped the poultice-covered cloth around it. He drew the sobbing boy into his arms, shushing him and murmuring senseless words of comfort. Romano's sobs calmed down after a while, allowing Antonio to lift him up and into his arms. He was carried carefully down the hallway, then set down on a chair in the bathroom. Slowly, Antonio undressed Romano, then lifted him again and lowered him into the steaming bath. The boy stiffened when his body hit the water, then relaxed, allowing the heat to soak into his sore body.

Antonio frowned, seeing the bruises already developing on the boy's stomach from where he had fallen. He took a soft cloth from the side of the bath, gently wiping his stomach and back, careful to keep the bandaged arm out of the water. Romano was calm now, his eyes drooping as the warmth of the water took away the pain. Seeing that he was beginning to doze off, Antonio lifted him out again and wrapped him in a huge white towel. Romano woke slightly as Antonio dried him, hissing slightly as he caught the sensitive curl on the side of his head when he ruffled his hair.

Once dry and dressed in a long white nightshirt, Antonio lifted the sleepy boy in his arms once again. He carried him through the house, stopping not at the boy's room, but taking him to his own. He lay the boy down, then walked over to his own, rather large, wardrobe and took out his own nightclothes. he stopped with his shirt halfway over his head when he heard a voice.

"This isn't my room." Romano muttered sleepily. He looked around, rubbing his eye, then blushed as he saw Antonio stood in the corner of the room almost shirtless.

Antonio looked over at the boy and smiled. "No, I thought you wouldn't want to stay there. Was I wrong?"

Romano looked away, giving Antonio all the answer he needed. He huffed and rolled over, then stopped as the movement jarred his wrist. He rolled back to lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He felt his body sink into the soft bed, tiredness washing over him again. He allowed himself to relax, his eyes drifting closed again.

Antonio smiled to himself as he saw the boy almost asleep, his small hands clutching the fabric of the sheets. He leaned over to press a kiss to the boy's forehead.

"Sleep now, little Lovi."

The boy, on the edge of sleep, frowned at hearing his other name, but didn't wake. Antonio slid into the bed next to him, then drew the covers over them both. He reached out to draw Romano close to him. For once, the boy didn't struggle, and snuggled closer to Antonio, his uninjured hand clutching the man's shirt. Outside, the sounds of the storm lessened, dying down until the only sounds were that of Romano's soft breathing and the gentle patter of rain against the window. A hush fell over the room, and Antonio let it lull him to sleep, too.


	3. Chapter 3 - GerIta

Part 3 – Gerita

Lightning flashed against the sky, lighting up the dim room. Thunder crashed a moment later, making the thin windows rattle. Feliciano sat huddled in one corner of the room, clutching his head in his hands. He jumped at every flash, hating his weakness. _If only Ludwig were here._ The personification of Germany was currently out on patrol, following the commands of his government. Feliciano was left alone, trying to control his anxiety on his own. It wasn't working very well, leaving him in increasing panic.

He thought longingly of his childhood, when all it took to calm him down was the comfort and embrace of Hungary, his mother figure. He felt a wave of nostalgia as he remembered the nights he would spend safe and warm between her and Austria, falling asleep nestled between the two. Now grown and deemed capable of managing his country on his own, he was left to deal with everything alone, unable to turn to anyone for help.

He dug his head deeper between his knees, trying not to cry. He was a grown man, he shouldn't be so scared of a simple storm. It was simply atmospheric pressure reacting with the electrical charge of the air, after all. Just weather. It was nothing to be scared of.

His attempts at rationalisation did not work. He felt his heart race and his breath shorten, signalling the beginning of a too-familiar panic attack. He couldn't even make himself get up to try and turn on the lights, not that the electricity would be likely to work during a storm of this ferocity. He clutched the fabric of his shirt, his hands digging into his arms.

Vaguely, he heard a noise. A harsh knocking, thumping on the door. A voice shouted over the storm.

"Italia? Open up!"

He knew that voice. He sobbed in relief, stumbling as he managed to stand up and stretch his sore limbs. He ran over to the door, throwing it open and flinging himself into the arms of the person standing there.

Ludwig held the smaller man close, knowing his fear of thunderstorms. He allowed to two of them to stand there for a moment, then pushed him back gently and held him at arms' length.

"I am glad to see you too, Italia, but can I come inside? This rain isn't going to stop any time soon."

Feliciano jumped back, then dragged Ludwig inside the house. He kept one hand fisted in the material of Ludwig's shirt. The tall blond sighed, then turned around and locked the door behind him. Feliciano stood still, trembling at every flash and crack of the storm. Ludwig took off his soaked jacket and hat, placing them carefully in the hall, then walked into the kitchen. He tried flicking the lights, unsurprised when nothing happened. Luckily, Feliciano's kitchen ran on gas, allowing him to light a match and turn on the hob. He busied himself with boiling water and making something. Feliciano clung to him the whole time. After a while Ludwig simply picked him up and carried him through to the lounge, then set him down on a couch, wrapping a blanket around him.

"Don't move. I won't be long, alright?" Feliciano nodded, comforted now that Ludwig was there. Ludwig sighed and went back into the kitchen. True to his word, he reappeared after about twenty minutes, holding two plates of something. He put one plate in front of Feliciano, then went back into the kitchen, coming back out with two steaming cups of coffee. Again, he placed one in front of Feliciano, then sat next to him.

Feliciano stirred, smelling the food in front of him. His stomach growled painfully, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours, too scared to move with the raging storm. He gave a tentative smile when he saw the plate. Pasta. Of course. He busied himself with eating for a few minutes, then looked up at Ludwig, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Say, Germany."

The blond looked up at him from his own plate. "Ja, Italy?"

"How come you're here? I'm so glad you are, but you were supposed to be on training, right? Will they be mad you left?"

Ludwig resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he replied calmly "Look outside, Italy. Do you really think any army would allow its citizens to train in such weather?"

Feliciano bit his lip, feeling stupid. "oh, right" he muttered. The two finished their food in silence, the sound of the storm still raging outside. Feliciano had just reached for his coffee when a loud crash sounded from the garden. He jumped, spilling the hot coffee over himself. He cried out in pain as the liquid scalded him.

Ludwig was at his side in an instant.

"Take them off."

"Huh?" Feliciano looked up at him, confused.

"Take your trousers off. You'll scald yourself if you keep them on." Feliciano blushed. Ludwig sighed and turned away. "Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. I'll get you new clothes. And for myself, too."

Feliciano obeyed, hurrying into the bathroom and stripping quickly. The shower was still working, luckily, and he jumped in, enjoying the feeling of the hot water flowing over his skin.

He heard a knock at the door. "Italy, I've got a change of clothes for you. I'll leave them here, alright?"

Feliciano nodded, then realised that Ludwig couldn't see him. "Ok!" he called out. Too late, he realised he could have asked Ludwig to join him. He cursed inwardly at his stupidity.

Finishing his shower, he got out and dried off quickly, changing into fresh clothes. Ludwig had been sensible as always, taking Feliciano's usual shorts and tank top as nightclothes. He looked around for his watch, seeing it on the pile of clothes. 9pm. He had been sat in the kitchen longer than he thought. He gathered up his clothes and went out into the hallway, shivering slightly as the cool air hit the bare skin of his arms and legs.

He went into his bedroom, seeing Ludwig standing towelling his hair. He was shirtless, and Feliciano felt his face heat at seeing the muscles of his arms slide as Ludwig moved. He coughed, setting his clothes down in a corner of the room. Ludwig turned as he heard the smaller man enter the room.

"U-uh, you can take a shower if you want. Are you cold? It's raining really hard, and you haven't changed yet, and there's clothes in the drawer, and towels in the bathroom, and, uh…" his voice trailed off as he realised he was babbling.

The two stood in silence for a moment, then a sudden boom of thunder cut through the silence. Feliciano screamed, then dived onto the bed unconsciously. Ludwig sighed and drew the covers over Feliciano.

"Rest. I won't be long." Feliciano heard him walk out of the room, then the distant sound of water running as Ludwig showered. He dug himself into the bed, shuddering at the sounds of the storm. He tried to block it out, trying to think of something, anything, to take the fear away. His thoughts turned to the man across the hall. _I wonder what he looks like right now?_ Unbidden thoughts rose to his mind, his body filling with heat. He tried to shut them out, listening to the storm instead.

That didn't help. His heart hammered in a mixture of panic and a feeling he didn't want to put a name to. _Hurry up, Germany,_ he thought. He both wished the taller man would hurry up and hoped he wouldn't come out for long enough for this feeling to subside.

Too soon, he heard the shower shut off and Ludwig walk back into the room, then felt the bed dip as he sat beside him. Feliciano drew the covers tighter over himself, concealing his flushed face. Luckily, Ludwig did not try to draw them back. Instead, Feliciano felt a hand on top of his head, stroking gently.

"Italia? I'm here now. Are you alright?"

Feliciano nodded frantically. "u-uh, yes. I think so. I- AAAH!" He screamed as another crack of thunder cut through the room. He whimpered, clutching the blanket tighter. He stayed like that for a moment, shuddering in fear. Ludwig sighed, then took hold of the blanket gently and drew it back. Feliciano turned his head away, not wanting the tall man to see the tears on his face. He laughed weakly, then drew his hand up to wipe his face. With his face covered by his arm, he muttered "I'm really pathetic, aren't I? A grown man, the personification of a country, crying at a storm. You must hate me."

Ludwig frowned, sitting back on the bed. "Why would I hate you?"

Feliciano turned his head in surprise, looking at him. "B-because you're strong, and tall, and nothing ever scares you. You're always having to rescue me and I don't do anything in return. All I ever do is mess stuff up. I even made you come back earlier from your training."

He peeked at Ludwig, then hid his face in the pillow, scared to see his reaction. The blond frowned, then his face softened, looking at Feliciano with what looked almost like a smile.

"I don't mind. Of course I want you to be a little more…self-aware, but that's another matter. And I came back of my own accord, if you remember. The training was cancelled, so I naturally came here. And you are entirely wrong on the other point."

Feliciano raised his head from the pillow, frowning in confusion. "What?"

Ludwig looked away, embarrassed. Muttering, he said "you are wrong that nothing scares me. There are plenty of things I fear for."

Feliciano perked up at that. "Really? Like what?"

Ludwig thought for several long moments before replying. "The safety of my land, my people. We countries bear the pressure of the events of our land, after all. There is always the possibility of war, unrest, natural disasters. I worry for my brother, my fellow countries. That- he coughed slightly – 'includes you, Italia."

"oh" was all Feliciano could answer to that. He sat up slightly, pushing himself up on his arms. He raised himself into a sitting position, turning until he was facing Ludwig, his legs crossed in front of him. He titled his head to one side, coyly.

"Do you worry about me more than anyone else?"

Ludwig looked away again, a flush rising on his pale cheeks.

"What sort of question is that? Of course I worry about you more than anyone. You give me far more reason to worry. No-one else requires such constant care."

Feliciano giggled, his fear over the storm now almost forgotten on seeing the stoic blond so obviously embarrassed. He decided to push the matter even further.

"So you care for me, then?"

Ludwig turned back to face him sharply, his eyes going wide, then looked away again. He raised a hand to hide his face. Feliciano giggled again. This was fun!

"T-that's beside the point. You are my ally, I am required to care for your well-being. I would do the same for any other. Japan, Austria, my brother…" his voice trailed into silence.

Feliciano, feeling bold, leaned forward and pecked a kiss to Ludwig's cheek.

"Well, I care for you, Germany."

He sat back, staring at his hands. "And I'm sorry for being so useless." He laughed softly again. "I guess I _am_ 'useless Italy', after all." He risked looking up at Ludwig, peeking up at him from under his eyelashes. He couldn't help smiling when he saw the other man holding one hand to his cheek in shock.

"Uh, what did you say? I didn't hear you."

Feliciano shook his head. "Nothing!" he said brightly.

"Right." Ludwig did not look convinced, but let it slide.

The two listened to the sounds of the storm in silence. Lightning flashed intermittently, followed by rumbles of thunder. Feliciano bit his lip, trying to ignore his fear now that Ludwig was beside him. He shut his eyes, his hands clutching the fabric of the sheets.

Suddenly, he felt Ludwig's hand on top of his head again, stroking his hair in slow movements. He relaxed, leaning in to his touch.

He felt Ludwig push him down until he was lying on the bed. He drew the covers up over him, then continued stroking his head. He felt the warmth of Ludwig's hand leave him for a moment, and opened his eyes, raising his head slightly. He watched as Ludwig made his way around the bed, then raised the covers and slid in next to him. He drew Feliciano next to him, his back against Ludwig's broad chest. His hand ran up and down feliciano's arms in slow strokes. The movement lulled him into a doze, his body finally relaxing in the safety of Ludwig's warm arms. On the edge of sleep, he thought he heard Ludwig say something in a soft voice, the words hazily reaching his tired mind.

"Sleep, Feli. I'll here with you."

He snuggled into Ludwig, turning until they were facing each other. They fell asleep like that, the sound of the storm outside gradually dying down until the stillness of the night matched the peace of the two, sleeping soundly in each other's arms.


	4. Chapter 4 - Spamano

Part 4 – Spamano

(Warning – language, mature content)

Rain lashed down on the pavements, soaking anyone foolish enough to be outside. The pair ran through the narrow, winding streets, the smaller cursing and swearing under his breath.

 _God dammit, why does it have to be raining so fucking hard!_

They dashed along the pavement, rubbing water out of his eyes as he went. They could barely see where they were going through the driving rain. The smaller pulled the taller along with him, letting his feet guide him through the familiar streets. The water was up to their ankles already, and would likely go higher. They ran across St Mark's square, past the winged lions on top of the pillars that were the favourite destination of seemingly every tourist. Not that there were any during weather like this, and not at this time of night, either. The shorter man cursed under his breath again.

He gasped harshly as he ran, his lungs burning. It hadn't been raining when they set out, damn it all, so how did the storm come on so suddenly? _You damn fool, Lovino. Take a fucking umbrella with you next time, you idiot._

"Come on, Antonio! We're getting fucking soaked! Hurry up, will you, bastard!" he yelled.

He glanced back at the man clutching his hand. For some reason, Antonio was smiling, seeing unconcerned with the water pounding down on his head and running down his body. Lovino shook his head, continuing to run.

They ran for a few minutes longer, taking whatever twists and turns Lovino could think of as short cuts. Eventually, he stopped outside a small, narrow house. He let go of Antonio's hand and fumbled in his pocket for the key, unlocking the door with shaking hands and throwing it open. He dragged Antonio in after him, then collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. After a moment he reached down, bracing himself against the wall, and ripped his shoes off.

" _Never_ do that again, Spain, you utter bastard." He glared across at the other man, who was standing with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. At Lovino's words, he looked up, his face relaxing in an easy smile.

"I'm sorry, Roma. I genuinely didn't know it was going to rain." He apologised.

Lovino huffed, still glaring. "Don't call me that. My name is Lovino."

Antonio smiled. "Si, I'm sorry. Lovi."

Lovino glared again. He normally hated being reminded that he was no longer a country, reduced to being the lesser half of his brother. The only reason he still existed as a personification at all was due to the fact that he had been unified with his brother and not forcefully overtaken, allowing the two of them to exist as separate halves of their country, Italy.

Antonio, however, was different. He was the only one Lovino allowed to call him by his human name, his brothers excepted. Although he would never admit it, he loved the sound of his name coming from Antonio's mouth, the syllables drawn out in that soft Spanish voice.

"What is it, bastard?" he asked, seeing Antonio standing still staring at him.

"Nothing, nothing. But that looks suits you." Antonio smiled flirtatiously at him. Lovino looked down at himself, blushing furiously when he saw the thin fabric of his shirt and pants clinging to his body, leaving little to the imagination.

"Y-you bastard! Pervert! I hate you!" he stormed off, running upstairs. Antonio watched him, admiring the view and laughing to himself. He took his own shoes off, then followed the smaller man upstairs, making his way into the familiar bedroom.

The room was unmistakeably Lovino's, clothes and furniture scattered around haphazardly. The bed stood in the middle of the room, against the wall. A dresser and wardrobe were against the other wall, with a small table and chair set in one corner next to the window. Shutters, the white painted over in a pale green, covered the windows, thin curtains flowing in the fierce wind from the storm. Antonio strode over and shut them, then closed the curtains, hiding the room from outside. He went over to the wardrobe where he knew Lovino kept spare clothes for him, taking out a shirt and pair of trousers. Not that he particularly intended to put them on, however.

He heard Lovino running a shower, the water splashing and echoing. He grinned to himself, then walked across the room, masking his footsteps. He paused for a moment outside the bathroom, making sure Lovino wouldn't hear him, then eased open the door.

He peeked across the room. Lovino's clothes were piled in a mess on the floor, as usual. He stripped his own clothes off, then looked over. The shower was misted up from the heat of the water, but he could see Lovino's silhouette faintly. He hadn't bothered to turn on the light, Antonio noticed. So much the better, he thought, smiling to himself. He paced silently across the room, stopping in front of the shower door. Lovino was facing the wall, his head tipped up to the shower, letting the water stream over him. Antonio whistled appreciatively at the sight.

Lovino whipped round at the sound, his face furious. He opened his mouth to speak, then sputtered as he involuntarily inhaled the water running down his face from his soaking hair. His foot slipped on the wet surface of the floor, and he almost fell. Quickly, Antonio flung open the shower door and caught him.

"Falling for me already, Lovi?"

The man in his arms glared, his face flushed from anger and the heat of the steamy shower. "Get your hands off me, you perverted bastard."

Antonio simply laughed again, setting Lovino upright. "You should be more careful in the shower, Lovino. You could trip."

Lovino struggled out of Antonio's grip, but made no move to distance himself.

"You bastard. You did that on purpose." He muttered. He folded his arms, refusing to look at the taller male.

"Si." Antonio admitted brazenly. He leant in, then stepped forward into the shower, reaching behind him to shut the door. They stood in silence for a moment, water pouring down on them both from the shower head.

Lovino kept stubbornly staring at the wall. Antonio leaned in again, bracing his hands on either side of the younger man.

"Lo~vi. Look at me."

Strangely, Lovino complied, staring forward to face Antonio. He refused to look up at his face, however, and kept his gaze on Antonio's smooth tanned chest. Antonio let him stay like that for a moment, gazing lovingly down at the smaller man. He knew from so many years of experience that Lovino was still unsure when it came to physical contact.

His waiting paid off, as after a few moments Lovino hesitantly reached out his hands and placed them on Antonio's chest. The other man stood still, letting Lovino do what he wished. He ran his hands slowly over Antonio's smooth, strong chest, then over his arms, his smaller hands barely reaching around the muscles. Antonio would never say it, but he loved Lovino like this. For all that he put up an act in public, this was the secret side of him that only Antonio was allowed to see.

The smaller man was blushing now, his face furrowed in concentration as he continued to run his hands over Antonio's body, still stubbornly refusing to look up at him. Antonio knew that this was Lovino's way of punishing him, deliberately moving his hands in agonising slowness. Antonio didn't mind, however. It would only make what would follow all the more pleasurable. Besides, his hands had now strayed lower, fingertips grazing his abdomen, his navel, then inching downward.

Lovino's hands had the desired effect, and they both knew it. Suddenly, Antonio gasped, bracing his hands on the wall. He stopped himself from looking down. Although he couldn't see his face, he knew Lovino would be smirking now.

He felt Lovino take him into his mouth, made slick by water still running over them both. He moved his head skilfully, his hands lightly gripping Antonio's thighs, face locked in a fierce frown of concentration. Antonio fought to stay still, even as he felt himself nearing release and his knees begin to buckle. Lovino realised, and began roaming his hands up and down along Antonio's thighs, then inching between and tickling what he found there. That did it for Antonio, shooting hotly into Lovino's mouth. He had thought the smaller man would release him, but instead Lovino grinned and swallowed, sucking harshly along the length before releasing with a wet pop.

He finally looked up at Antonio. Dark satisfaction was written over his face, smirking up at his lover. Water ran over his face, washing away the last traces trickling down his chin.

"I'm looking at you now, Spaniard. Do you like what you see?" Lovino teased him sensuously.

Antonio could only respond with a deep moan of need, still high on the feeling of release. God, Lovino was so damn _good_ at this! He couldn't take it any more. He grabbed Lovino's hands and hauled him up, barely remembering to turn the shower off, then lifted him and threw him roughly over his shoulder.

Carrying him through to the bedroom, he threw Lovino down on the bed, still dripping wet, then climbed on top of him. He braced his arms above Lovino carefully, then pressed a light kiss to his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his nose, and finally his lips, lingering and deep. Lovino kissed him back with surprising force, his face red and flushed with need. Antoni grinned darkly.

"Shall I return the favour, _mi amore_?" he whispered huskily, sending shivers down Lovino's spine. Lovino could only nod weakly, and turned his head to the side. Antonio took the opportunity, and began a trail of kisses down Lovino's body. He started by pressing his kips lightly just below Lovino's earlobe, sucking slightly on the soft skin, then trailed his lips down the side of his neck, across his chest, and down his stomach. He lingered in some places, his mouth leaving dark bruises across Lovino's skin, before stopping just below Lovino's navel.

He looked up at Lovino one last time, as if for reassurance. No matter how many times they had done this, he still asked Lovino each time, and Lovino loved him deeply for it.

"Are you ready, Lovi?"

Lovino nodded, still looking away. He brought a hand up to over his mouth, almost unconsciously.

Antonio smiled softly at the sight, then lowered his head. He took Lovino into his mouth, slowly working his lips and tongue in the same way Lovino had done for him. Antonio, however, did so with infinite gentleness, working Lovino's length slowly. He paused occasionally to look up at his lover. Lovino was, as always, blushing madly, his hand held tight against his mouth. Regardless, small moans escaped him, each one working to send Antonio into a new frenzy. He worked his mouth faster, eagerly. Lovino gasped, arching his hips up involuntarily. The movement made him sink deeper into Antonio's mouth, his tip reaching the back of his throat. Antonio took the chance and sucked harshly.

Now it was Lovino's turn to go over the edge. He shot into Antonio's mouth, his name ringing throughout the room with a soft cry. Hearing his lover's desperate call, Antonio grinned, wiping his mouth and releasing Lovino, then gazing up at him in possessive satisfaction. He moved until he was once again braced over Lovino, staring at him lovingly. Lovino lay below him, quivering slightly with the passion of his release, eyes closed in pleasure. Antonio kissed the closed lids, then did as before and covered his face in small, tender kisses, returning to his eyelids just as Lovino opened them and gazed at him.

This was the only time Lovino was true to his feelings, when he lay open and exposed beneath him. As always, Antonio sent a silent prayer to whoever had let them meet. That they should both live like this, as personifications; immortal, unchanging beings, was nothing short of a miracle. None of them fully understood the reason why they existed at all, and that was exactly why Antonio was forever grateful that the two of them were here, like this, together. Unable to live like their citizens, falling in and out of love, having children, growing up and growing old together, it could be _so lonely_. That was why he treasured Lovino. He had waited so long for him to return his feelings, had given up and focussed on his country, and his duty. Now Lovino was here, and, no matter how much he tried to hide it to the outside world, willing to return his love with a passion just as fierce.

Lovino must have realised that Antonio's thoughts had gone elsewhere, as his face looked decidedly irritated. "What are you staring at, bastard? You are supposed to be looking at _me_."

This side of him was utterly adorable. While he would play the brat in public, during the time they were alone like this Lovino would become utterly possessive, demanding Antonio's attention completely. He, of course, gave it, every time.

"I'm sorry, Lovi. I was thinking."

Lovino quirked an eyebrow, still angry. "About what?" he asked, annoyed that Antonio had made no further move.

"You."

Lovino flushed again. "y-yeah? So you should be."

Antonio gave a soft laugh and nuzzled into Lovino's shoulder. He mumbled something against his skin, making Lovino wriggle away. "What did you say? I can't hear you like that. Speak louder, damn it."

Now Antonio's face turned sly. He lifted himself over Lovino again. "Louder, hmm? Shall I see how loud you can be, huh? You were pretty loud before."

Lovino gasped and flushed even deeper red, if that was possible. He wormed a hand out from Antonio's brace and flung it over his face, muttering something.

"That sounded like an invitation, Lo~vi." Antonio whispered. Lovino tried to bury himself into the sheet, away from Antonio. He muttered something again.

"Lo~vi."

Lovino muttered again under his breath. Antonio heard what he said this time, and sat back on his heels, laughing.

"What are you laughing at, you bastard?" Lovino asked angrily. Antonio didn't reply, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He wiped away a tear from his eye. Lovino was seriously irritated now, and sat up, his face furious.

"What the hell are you laughing at, bastard? Tell me!" he yelled.

Antonio's laughter died down, and he looked at Lovino, still smiling.

"Bad choice of words, Lovi" was all he said.

Lovino stared at him for a moment, confusion written over his face. Then, he flushed deeply, remembering what he had said.

"I-I didn't,uh, I, uh,- oh, fuck you." He muttered, his voice trailing off. Antonio only laughed again.

"See! That's exactly what I mean!" he said. Lovino looked away and refused to look at the other man.

They sat like that for a moment, Lovino refusing to turn to face Antonio. After a moment, however, curiosity won out, and he turned his head ever so slightly. Antonio caught the movement, and smirked, but didn't move, waiting.

His patience paid off. Lovino leaned forward until he was just inches from Antonio, then put his hands down on either side of him. He closed the remaining distance, his expression intent. Antonio closed his eyes, waiting again.

He felt Lovino's lips press softly into his own, and opened his mouth slowly, letting Lovino have control. They kissed deeply, slowly, exploring each other's mouths tenderly. Antonio sat stock still as Lovino broke the kiss and sat back, then began to do the same as he had before, running his hands over Antonio's body slowly. He pushed on his back slightly, and Antonio shuffled forward obediently until he was sitting in the middle of the bed.

Lovino pressed kisses all around Antonio's body, across his chest and back, up and down his neck, and along his sides, his lips trailing every inch of skin. Antonio fought to stay still, each feather-light touch sending shivers across his skin. As before, Lovino knew exactly what effect he was having, and blew softly across Antonio's skin, making him gasp. He loved when Lovino took control like this.

Lovino's touches were beginning to work in other ways. Anton tried to stay still, but each of Lovino's kisses was slowly but surely driving him crazy.

Without warning, he sat up sharply, grabbed Lovino and threw him back down on the bed. Lovino, however, was having none of it. In the moment Antonio bent over him, he used the taller man's momentum to flip them again, moving so that he was sitting on top of Antonio. He glared down imperiously. Antonio simply smirked lazily.

"So that's how you want to do it, huh?"

Lovino didn't answer, but his blush spoke for him. Antonio gazed up at him, love written all over his face. Slowly, so slowly, he sat up and captured Lovino in a fierce hug, then reached around him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and tender. When Lovino nodded, he reached over to the bedside table and took a small bottle, uncapping it and squirting the liquid into his hand. He coated his fingers thoroughly. Lovino waited until he was finished, then sat forward in his lap, his arms reaching around him to clutch his shoulders tightly.

Antonio lifted Lovino slightly until he had enough room, then pushed a finger in slowly. Lovino gasped in pain, stiffening, at the sensation of the cold liquid then relaxed as Antonio began stretching him. A second skilful finger joined the first, then another, curling and scissoring with practised tenderness and ease. Lovino clutched him tightly, his eyes tightly shut. Knowing he was ready, Antonio drew out and placed the other hand gently against Lovino's cheek. He kissed him deeply again, then slowly lay back.

Lovino took the signal, and lowered himself carefully onto Antonio. He let Lovino take all the time he needed, gazing at him lovingly. Lovino eased himself down, gasping and panting slightly. He waited a few moments for the pain to fade, then began to move. He rode him slowly at first, his hips moving back and forth, then began to work in tiny circles.

Antonio let him settle into a rhythm, then slowly sat up, rising until their faces touched. The movement made Lovino gasp harshly, moaning in pleasure. Damn, but Antonio sure knew exactly what to do. He finally opened himself completely, letting his emotions show. He called Antonio's name over and over, his voice full of the love that he would only ever show during their most intimate moments. Antonio, in turn, said Lovino's name over and over, turning the syllables into something like a mantra.

They moved faster and faster, each knowing instinctively what to do to elicit the greatest pleasure. As they felt themselves nearing release for the second time, they sped up, their cries coming in time with their thrusts. The storm outside only added to the tempest inside the room, the hammering of the rain and intermittent flashes of lightning making for a counterpart to their passion.

In what Antonio thought must be the work of god, it seemed the storm reached a crescendo with them. They spent themselves for the second time, holding each other tightly, their grasp make slick with sweat and passion. They stayed like that for a few moments, riding out the last of their pleasure with each other. They sat with their foreheads touching, Lovino's eyes closed in bliss. Antonio smiled and licked away the tears leaking from the corner of his lover's eyes, marvelling that even after so many times, Lovino was _his_ , and only his. He lowered his head, afraid to let Lovino see the tears that were springing to his own eyes.

He could not hide it completely, however. He felt Lovino's arms release him, reaching up to tangle in his hair. He began to stroke his head gently, whispering the words of promise and love that he saved for this precise moment. Antonio relaxed into his touch, his arms slipping down until he gripped Lovino tightly around his waist. Lovino made a small noise of surprise, and Antonio loosened his grip slightly. Lovino was the one to wait this time, letting Antonio regain his composure. The brunette lifted himself until they separated, then lay them both down until they faced each other on the bed. Antonio released his hold for a moment, allowing Lovino to sit up and pick the abandoned covers from the floor, then draw them over them both until they were cocooned in the blankets.

"Ti amo, _Spagna_ " Lovino whispered, then kissed Antonio's cheek. Antonio opened his eyes and gazed at Lovino in wonder.

"Te amo, _mi sur de Italia_ " Antonio replied, his voice low with love and sleep. He yawned.

" _My little Lovi. My Romano_ " he said. Lovino blushed, then lay down, snuggling into Antonio. He was asleep in moments.

Antonio smiled, kissing Lovino's hair, then drew his arm around him, holding him softly. He felt himself drawing close to sleep, and welcomed it. Outside, the storm had moved on, as if it's raging intensity had spent itself with the lovers'. Only the gentle patter of the rain was left, and that too soon died down, leaving the night calm, silent and still.


	5. Chapter 5 - Anko Family

Love and Lightning part 5 –Anko Family

Thunder crashed outside, raging around the strong walls of the castle. Inside, the sounds of the storm were faint, masked by the thick stone and sounds of revelry. Men sat at long wooden benches, most clutching huge mugs of mead and ale, the tables groaning with the weight of the food lying on silver platters.

Lukas looked around the hall with faint disdain. He was never one for parties, and found no pleasure in the drinking games and drunken merriment currently in front of him. To his right, the host, Matthias, was holding a mug at a dangerous angle, his arm swinging wildly as he relayed the tale of some victorious feat.

To be fair, Matthias was a great King. As the manifestation of Denmark, he ruled over much of the North, his power stretching far and wide across Scandinavia. But that rule had come to an end. Some weeks ago, his one-time friend and subordinate, Berwald, the personification of Sweden, had risen up against Matthias, fed up with the man's rule. He had left in the dead of night, leaving the castle with Matthias' angered cries ringing throughout the halls. To add insult to injury, he had not left alone, but taken or convinced Tino, the personification of Finland, to leave with him. Lukas, as the personification of Norway, was forced to stay, having neither the troops nor the funds to leave. Matthias had not taken it well, and now spent his days drinking and fuming, drowning his sorrows and rage amongst the men still loyal to him.

Another crash of thunder sounded outside, louder than the rest. Most of the men seemed not to notice. Too drunk in their cups to care about the storm raging outside, their senses dulled by the alcohol and stifling atmosphere of the room, made too warm by the roaring fires spaced out along the walls in deep depressions. Many also had huge roasts turning slowly on spits above them, trophies caught and killed by the hunting parties Matthias was so fond of.

Lukas had had enough. Taking one last look around the room, his lip curled in disgust. He slammed his chair back and rose gracefully to his feet, then leaned over to tug at Matthias' hair to get his attention. The tall Dane turned to look at him, surprised.

"I'm going to check on them. I'll see you later" he said. He saw Matthias' eyes narrow in confusion, then soften. He nodded, then turned back to the men. Some jeered, making motions for him to stay, but he ignored them, turning rapidly on his heel and stalking out of the hall.

Once out of the great hall, the cold of the castle became apparent, the wind howling through the narrow windows. Snow whirled furiously outside, the lightning flashing haphazardly on the snow piled up in huge drifts against the walls.

Lukas gave a brief look behind him. Seeing no-one, he broke into a run, his long robe flying out as he ran down the long corridor. He made his way up the stairs, not needing a candle to guide his way. After a few minutes, he reached a strong wooden door, and flung it open, rushing over to the large bed in the centre of the room. Two small figures were huddled in the mess of furs, whimpering with their hands pressed tightly against their ears. Their faces were covered in tears, small eyes squeezed shut and their bodies flinching and shaking. On the other side of the room, cries came from a cot standing in the corner. Lukas hurried over, picking the child up and shushing the.

Carrying the child over the others, Lukas drew the children into his arms. Feelings their brother's touch, the children, Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Island, sobbed in relief. Iceland was the first to speak.

"Brother!" he cried. Lukas shushed him, murmuring senseless words of comfort and reassurance. He glared over the children's shoulders, furious that Matthias thought more of his comrades and drinking than his own family.

"It's alright, Lillebrør. I'm here now. You're safe."

He began singing in a soft voice, rocking them slowly. The children' sobs gradually quietened down as Lukas held them, and, one by one, they relaxed, their eyes drooping. He picked Greenland up, carrying her over to her own bed on the other side of the room, then did the same with little Faroe, placing the toddler back in her cot and tucking the furs tightly around her. Lastly, he returned to Emil, kissing his forehead and smoothing his hair in the same way he had the others.

"Sleep now, little brothers. I'll be here."

A knock sounded at the door. Lukas looked over dispassionately to see Matthias slip into the room. He walked over to Lukas, seeing the children now sleeping soundly.

"Are they alright?" Matthias asked quietly.

"No thanks to you." Lukas' voice was quiet, but deadly cold. To his credit, Matthias looked suitably apologetic, but Lukas wasn't about to accept the apology.

"Perhaps if you cared more about those still with you than the drunken lackeys trying to drink themselves to Valhalla, I could have been up here earlier."

Matthias frowned. "I have to be with my men, Lukas, you know that."

Lukas didn't look impressed. "And what am I then? A trophy? Something to parade around in front of your men as a symbol of what little power you have left?" His eyes flashed with fury. "I am not a prize, _Denmark_."

Matthias' eyes matched his anger. "I do not treat you as such, nor have I ever. You and the children are the most precious things to me, you know that. Or is it not enough that the host has left his own celebration to come here!" his voice rose in anger, making Iceland stir. His eyes fluttered, making Lukas tighten his hold on him, shushing him.

"Go then." He turned back to the child in his arms, shutting out the Dane.

Matthias looked like he would retort, but simply glared at Lukas. Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the door, slamming it behind him. The noise made Faroe cry out again, and Lukas hurried over to her for the second time, picking her up and shushing her. He paced slowly back and forth with the toddler in his arms, rocking her to sleep again.

Iceland's voice broke the silence.

"Brør. Does Danmark hate us?"

Lukas whirled round to face him, his face horrified.

"No! Of course not. The fool simply has more important matters to attend to." He couldn't stop a sour twist in the words.

"oh." Iceland's face twisted in confusion. "Are we not important to him?" He looked on the edge of tears.

Lukas sighed. Walking over to the bed, he sat down carefully, mindful of the now-sleeping Faroe in his arms. Not wanting to be left out, Greenland, who had also woken up with the noise, came padding over. Lukas made room for them all, motioning for Iceland to tuck the fur covers around them. Once they were settled, he explained.

"Danmark does not mean to snap. He loves you all, you know that. He was very angry when Berwald and Tino left, and he is still very sad. But he still cares for you very much." _Even if it is only for the power he still holds over all of us. Not for much longer._

"Oh." Iceland thought for a moment. "What if Berwald came back? Then Danmark wouldn't be mad any more, would he?"

Lukas smiled thinly. "As nice as that would be, Emil, it is not going to happen."

Emil's face fell. "I-I know. I just want us to all be together again. I don't like war. Everyone always yells and you and Danmark come back hurt and we have to stay here. I don't like waiting and not knowing what's going to happen. I have to be strong and take care of Kala and Frida when you aren't here, but I don't know what to do and the storm was really loud and scary and you weren't here!"

Lukas shushed him. "I know. I'm sorry, Lillebrør. I came up as quickly as I could. I'm sorry." His face softened.

"But you know what the storm is, don't you?" he said. Emil shook his head, his eyes wide. Lukas smiled softly.

"Have I never told you?" the child shook his head. Lukas quirked a smile again. Gently, he lay down, settling Faroe in his arms. He stroked her hair gently while he spoke. The children snuggled into him, Emil on one side, Kala on the other. He began to speak softly.

"Long, long ago, even before any of us were born, the world was created by the Allfather, Odin. His sons and daughters were given many powers, but it was his strongest son, Thor, who was given the greatest gift. The mighty hammer, Mjølnir. When Thor wielded this weapon, the strength was so great that its swing created great winds, and when he lifted it to the heavens, it summoned lightning and thunder. That is what the storm outside is. Thor is fighting the frost giants, their eternal enemies. He fights to keep us safe. It is nothing to be scared of."

The children's eyes were wide. As one, they looked towards the window, still battered by the howling winds and snow. It was Kala who spoke first.

"Can we be as strong as Thor, brother?"

Lukas smiled absently, nodding.

The children looked at each other in wonder. Lukas continued listing the gods in a soft voice, telling them tales of the trickster Loki, gentle Baldur, Skadi the huntress, Sif with her hair of golden silk, and all the others. He kept the quiet, lilting tone until long after they were asleep again, their little hands tangled softly in his robes, their breathing deep and even.

He rose slowly, careful not to wake them. Rather than disturb Faroe, he placed her gently down between the two, allowing the children to curl up together. He smiled at the sight of the three of them, Emil and Kala both with a protective arm over little Frida. Walking over to the window, he made sure the shutters were closed tightly. He then went over to the fireplace, banking the embers to ensure no wayward spark escaped during the night. Once he was done, he walked over to the door, going through and closing it carefully behind him.

He walked back through the drafty corridors to the great hall. Upon reaching it, he found that the gaiety had long since ended, with most of the warriors having staggered out to their bed, those that were too drunk to move lying on the straw-strewn floor, snoring loudly. Lukas curled his lip in disgust.

There was no sign of Matthias. Lukas sighed. Turning again, he closed the doors behind him and made his way back up the stairs, this time going to the room he shared with Matthias. Predictably, the Dane was waiting for him, standing staring out of the snow-obscured window. He turned around when he saw Lukas enter.

"Are they all asleep?" he asked. Lukas simply nodded. Without replying, he walked over to the bed and began undressing, replacing the heavy robe and undershirt with a clean white nightgown. All the while, he avoided Matthias' eyes. Just as he was about to lift the covers, he felt the taller man's arms lock around him.

"I'm sorry, Nor. I really am. I should have gone to the children, I know. But I have to be there for my men, you know? They need to see me as king. They need to know I _am_ still king." His voice was almost pleading.

Lukas stiffened in his arms, then eventually relaxed. He muttered something.

"What?"

Another sigh. "I said I know. You _are_ still king. No one doubts it, you stupid Dane." _Not your men, and not me._

Matthias picked up on the unspoked words. He tightened his hold around Lukas, nuzzling into the smaller man's neck. Lukas, surprisingly, let him.

"It's too late to argue. I'm sorry. Please, let's go to sleep?" Matthias mumbled into Lukas' pale hair. Lukas simply nodded. Matthias let go, allowing Lukas to slip beneath the covers. As Lukas had, Matthias walked over to the fireplace, banking the embers. That done, he walked over to the bed and slipped in, then reached over and snuffed the candles out.

For once, Lukas did not protest when he drew him close. He fell asleep wrapped in his King's arms, the storm outside gradually fading away in the night.

A/N

Another one done! This pretty much combines both the child and adult versions of the anko family, so I doubt I'll do another one, at least for Dennor. Iceland, however…lets just say he has someone else to comfort him too (coughHongIceFTW).

As to the historical accuracy, there isn't any. Iceland was settled in around 874, then Greenland and the Faroe Islands in the 10th and 11th centuries, so that was the only basis for their ages. If you go by who was there first, Greenland has actually been inhabited for a lot longer than Iceland, so you can imagine them as older if you want. As to making them both female, the little I could find online seems to suggest so (I used Pinterest for images) so that's what I used. The only names I could find were fan made, but I wanted to use _something_ at least. If anyone knows if they have more widely-used fanon names I'd be interested to know. They very rarely appear in fics and even more rarely have names, so it only seemed fait to include them here.

On a side note, Iceland's use of Danmark instead of Denmark is purely accentual. Lukas uses Denmark as a snub, as they usually call each other by their human names. (at least in my mind)

The list of gods is taken from the Runemarks series by Joanne Harris. It's a brilliant series and I highly recommend it for anyone wanting a basis for Norse mythology. The prequel, in particular, is a brilliant read, told as it is by our favourite trickster God. Its even better if read in *his* voice (you know who I mean.)

As always, thank you for reading, and any feedback, good or bad, is very much appreciated. Thank you!


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